Editorials
David Cronenberg’s ‘Crash’ – An Unconventional Erotic Thriller/Slasher
On the surface, David Cronenberg’s 1996 adaptation of J.G. Ballard’s 1973 novel Crash is a drama about an unlikely group of people who come together over their shared fascination with car crashes.
The novel is written in the first person from the point of view of Ballard’s proxy, James Ballard. He’s a successful film producer in an open marriage to wife Catherine; both partners routinely engage in casual sex with co-workers and strangers alike, seemingly in pursuit of upending their relationship ennui.
The sex, which is captured by Ballard in incredibly specific and laborious prose, is cold, dispassionate, and almost clinical. The novel is often described as a work of science-fiction; despite containing virtually none of the tropes of the genre, Crash reads like a warning of a dystopian future in which citizens have become so desensitized that they will be pushed to pursue more and more extreme outlets in order to feel something.
That something, as both readers and viewers of the film will know, is car crashes.
Considering how confronting and racy the book is, the David Cronenberg film adaptation of Crash is something of a marvel. Ballard’s book was long thought impossible to adapt and the movie, which features lines of dialogue lifted straight from the novel, as well as copious amounts of sex and nudity (much of it fetishistic and queer) is provocative, confronting and even a little dangerous. In case the divisive nature of the movie isn’t clear, when it debuted at Cannes, Crash provoked both walk-outs, as well as a special Jury prize for its audacity.
James Spader stars as James Ballard in the film version, while Deborah Kara Unger plays his wife Catherine. The film opens with both engaging in extra marital affairs (his at work on set, hers at an airplane hangar – a carry-over from her flight lessons in the book). That night on the open terrace of their luxury Toronto high rise, they take turns talking about their trysts in order to stimulate each other. Their oft-repeated line “Maybe next time” is verbal evidence of a disaffected sex life and lack of connection to one another.
Things change when James distractedly causes a head-on collision that kills another man. Not only does this event shift him into the orbit of the dead man’s wife, Dr Helen Remington (Holly Hunter), but it puts him on the radar of badly scarred car crash enthusiast Vaughan (Elias Koteas).
While the film definitely focuses principally on character (and sex)-driven sequences, under closer consideration, it’s clear that Vaughan is something of a cult leader. He has amassed a collective of acolytes who hang on his every word; these are individuals who have become so enamored by his obsession that they effectively abandon their own lives in order to sleep with each other and study Vaughan’s archival collection of car wrecks.
In the clearest evidence of Vaughan’s cult of personality, his dear “friend” Seagrave (Peter MacNeil), whom Vaughan encourages to drive in simulations despite successive concussions, eventually dies in a manufactured recreation of Jayne Mansfield’s death. In the virtuoso sequences, Ballard, Catherine and Vaughan survey the massive traffic jam and the plethora of injuries caused by Seagrave’s crash, but Vaughan’s only response upon seeing his friend’s body is bemoaning the fact that Seagrave didn’t wait for him. This is a man unafraid to embolden his followers to commit acts of violence, who can’t even feign sadness at their passing when they inevitably perish in the resulting destruction.
Throughout the film, Vaughan is clearly a dark shadow figure lurking over the narrative. He exhibits classic stalker behaviour: disguising his identity in order to conduct surveys and take pictures of crash survivors like Helen and Ballard. He also voyeuristically photographs them (and others) having sex, and he frequently tails them in his giant black car.
Not unlike a horror villain’s tool of choice, the car acts as both an extension of Vaughan, as well as a weapon with which to terrorize and pursue his victims. As the film progresses and the relationships begin to intensify, Vaughan appears to lose interest in his former crew so that he can focus on Ballard and Catherine, whom he repeatedly engages with via vehicular contact, as well as sexual dominance.
Vaughan frequently chases the couple with his car, particularly Catherine, who is the final member of the ensemble who has not been in an accident. Not unlike a slasher villain, Vaughan stalks his prey, hanging back in his car to draw out the chase before jerking forward and startling, or even rear ending, them. The relationship between the cars’ physical contact and human appendages isn’t difficult to discern: like a car-obsessed version of Jigsaw, Vaughan figuratively and literally rams into Ballard and Catherine with his oversized appendage in order to make the couple feel something, to make them feel alive.
This idea comes full circle at film’s end. After repeatedly trying to indoctrinate Ballard and Catherine into his group, Vaughan makes one final (suicidal) attempt, his car flying over the guard rails and crashing into a bus on the freeway below. Not only does his end reinforce the film’s nihilistic interest in equating car crashes with sexual intercourse and death, Vaughan’s passing effectively promotes Ballard to become his successor.
In the film’s final moments, Ballard literally replicates Vaughan’s actions, chasing down his wife in his own oversized car and instigating a car accident before initiating sex with her on the side of the road. The fact that they repeat the same line of dialogue from the start of the film (“Maybe next time”), suggests that the crash wasn’t entirely successful in reigniting their relationship and that they will continue to rely on Vaughan’s habit of using of car crashes to incite interpersonal connectivity.
Despite its lack of traditional genre conventions, David Cronenberg’s Crash absolutely contains elements of both slasher films and erotic thrillers. The intersection of sex and death, Vaughan’s ability to steer and manipulate the narrative, as well as how he uses his car like a weapon, all feel very horror inspired. Crash may be an unconventional example of the subgenre, but we should expect nothing less from a master like David Cronenberg.
Sex Crimes is a column that explores the legacy of erotic thrillers.
Soon after the New Hollywood generation took over the entertainment industry, they started having children. And more than any filmmakers that came before—they were terrified. Rosemary’s Baby (1968), The Exorcist (1973), The Omen (1976), Eraserhead (1977), The Brood (1979), The Shining (1980), Possession (1981), and many others all deal, at least in part, with the fears of becoming or being a parent. What if my child turns out to be a monster? is corrupted by some evil force? or turns out to be the fucking Antichrist? What if I screw them up somehow, or can’t help them, or even go insane and try to kill them? Horror has always been at its best when exploring relatable fears through extreme circumstances. A prime example of this is Larry Cohen’s 1974 monster-baby movie It’s Alive, which explores the not only the rollercoaster of emotions that any parent experiences when confronted with the difficulties of raising a child, but long-standing questions of who or what is at fault when something goes horribly wrong.
Cohen begins making his underlying points early in the film as Frank Davis (John P. Ryan) discusses the state of the world with a group of expectant fathers in a hospital waiting room. They discuss the “overabundance of lead” in foods and the environment, smog, and pesticides that only serve to produce roaches that are “bigger, stronger, and harder to kill.” Frank comments that this is “quite a world to bring a kid into.” This has long been a discussion point among people when trying to decide whether to have kids or not. I’ve had many conversations with friends who have said they feel it’s irresponsible to bring children into such a violent, broken, and dangerous world, and I certainly don’t begrudge them this. My wife and I did decide to have children but that doesn’t mean that it’s been easy.
Immediately following this scene comes It’s Alive’s most famous sequence in which Frank’s wife Lenore (Sharon Farrell) is the only person left alive in her delivery room, the doctors clawed and bitten to death by her mutant baby, which has escaped. “What does my baby look like!? What’s wrong with my baby!?” she screams as nurses wheel her frantically into a recovery room. The evening that had begun with such joy and excitement at the birth of their second child turned into a nightmare. This is tough for me to write, but on some level, I can relate to this whiplash of emotion. When my second child was born, they came about five weeks early. I’ll use the pronouns “they/them” for privacy reasons when referring to my kids. Our oldest was still very young and went to stay with my parents and we sped off to the hospital where my wife was taken into an operating room for an emergency c-section. I was able to carry our newborn into the NICU (natal intensive care unit) where I was assured that this was routine for all premature births. The nurses assured me there was nothing to worry about and the baby looked big and healthy. I headed to where my wife was taken to recover to grab a few winks assuming that everything was fine. Well, when I awoke, I headed back over to the NICU to find that my child was not where I left them. The nurse found me and told me that the baby’s lungs were underdeveloped, and they had to put them in a special room connected to oxygen tubes and wires to monitor their vitals.
It’s difficult to express the fear that overwhelmed me in those moments. Everything turned out okay, but it took a while and I’m convinced to this day that their anxiety struggles spring from these first weeks of life. As our children grew, we learned that two of the three were on the spectrum and that anxiety, depression, ADHD, and OCD were also playing a part in their lives. Parents, at least speaking for myself, can’t help but blame themselves for the struggles their children face. The “if only” questions creep in and easily overcome the voices that assure us that it really has nothing to do with us. In the film, Lenore says, “maybe it’s all the pills I’ve been taking that brought this on.” Frank muses aloud about how he used to think that Frankenstein was the monster, but when he got older realized he was the one that made the monster. The aptly named Frank is wondering if his baby’s mutation is his fault, if he created the monster that is terrorizing Los Angeles. I have made plenty of “if only” statements about myself over the years. “If only I hadn’t had to work so much, if only I had been around more when they were little.” Mothers may ask themselves, “did I have a drink, too much coffee, or a cigarette before I knew I was pregnant? Was I too stressed out during the pregnancy?” In other words, most parents can’t help but wonder if it’s all their fault.
At one point in the film, Frank goes to the elementary school where his baby has been sighted and is escorted through the halls by police. He overhears someone comment about “screwed up genes,” which brings about age-old questions of nature vs. nurture. Despite the voices around him from doctors and detectives that say, “we know this isn’t your fault,” Frank can’t help but think it is, and that the people who try to tell him it isn’t really think it’s his fault too. There is no doubt that there is a hereditary element to the kinds of mental illness struggles that my children and I deal with. But, and it’s a bit but, good parenting goes a long way in helping children deal with these struggles. Kids need to know they’re not alone, a good parent can provide that, perhaps especially parents that can relate to the same kinds of struggles. The question of nature vs. nurture will likely never be entirely answered but I think there’s more than a good chance that “both/and” is the case. Around the midpoint of the film, Frank agrees to disown the child and sign it over for medical experimentation if caught or killed. Lenore and the older son Chris (Daniel Holzman) seek to nurture and teach the baby, feeling that it is not a monster, but a member of the family.
It’s Alive takes these ideas to an even greater degree in the fact that the Davis Baby really is a monster, a mutant with claws and fangs that murders and eats people. The late ’60s and early ’70s also saw the rise in mass murderers and serial killers which heightened the nature vs. nurture debate. Obviously, these people were not literal monsters but human beings that came from human parents, but something had gone horribly wrong. Often the upbringing of these killers clearly led in part to their antisocial behavior, but this isn’t always the case. It’s Alive asks “what if a ‘monster’ comes from a good home?” In this case is it society, environmental factors, or is it the lead, smog, and pesticides? It is almost impossible to know, but the ending of the film underscores an uncomfortable truth—even monsters have parents.
As the film enters its third act, Frank joins the hunt for his child through the Los Angeles sewers and into the L.A. River. He is armed with a rifle and ready to kill on sight, having divorced himself from any relationship to the child. Then Frank finds his baby crying in the sewers and his fatherly instincts take over. With tears in his eyes, he speaks words of comfort and wraps his son in his coat. He holds him close, pats and rocks him, and whispers that everything is going to be okay. People often wonder how the parents of those who perform heinous acts can sit in court, shed tears, and defend them. I think it’s a complex issue. I’m sure that these parents know that their child has done something evil, but that doesn’t change the fact that they are still their baby. Your child is a piece of yourself formed into a whole new human being. Disowning them would be like cutting off a limb, no matter what they may have done. It doesn’t erase an evil act, far from it, but I can understand the pain of a parent in that situation. I think It’s Alive does an exceptional job placing its audience in that situation.
Despite the serious issues and ideas being examined in the film, It’s Alive is far from a dour affair. At heart, it is still a monster movie and filled with a sense of fun and a great deal of pitch-black humor. In one of its more memorable moments, a milkman is sucked into the rear compartment of his truck as red blood mingles with the white milk from smashed bottles leaking out the back of the truck and streaming down the street. Just after Frank agrees to join the hunt for his baby, the film cuts to the back of an ice cream truck with the words “STOP CHILDREN” emblazoned on it. It’s a movie filled with great kills, a mutant baby—created by make-up effects master Rick Baker early in his career, and plenty of action—and all in a PG rated movie! I’m telling you, the ’70s were wild. It just also happens to have some thoughtful ideas behind it as well.
Which was Larry Cohen’s specialty. Cohen made all kinds of movies, but his most enduring have been his horror films and all of them tackle the social issues and fears of the time they were made. God Told Me To (1976), Q: The Winged Serpent (1982), and The Stuff (1985) are all great examples of his socially aware, low-budget, exploitation filmmaking with a brain and It’s Alive certainly fits right in with that group. Cohen would go on to write and direct two sequels, It Lives Again (aka It’s Alive 2) in 1978 and It’s Alive III: Island of the Alive in 1987 and is credited as a co-writer on the 2008 remake. All these films explore the ideas of parental responsibility in light of the various concerns of the times they were made including abortion rights and AIDS.
Fifty years after It’s Alive was initially released, it has only become more relevant in the ensuing years. Fears surrounding parenthood have been with us since the beginning of time but as the years pass the reasons for these fears only seem to become more and more profound. In today’s world the conversation of the fathers in the waiting room could be expanded to hormones and genetic modifications in food, terrorism, climate change, school and other mass shootings, and other threats that were unknown or at least less of a concern fifty years ago. Perhaps the fearmongering conspiracy theories about chemtrails and vaccines would be mentioned as well, though in a more satirical fashion, as fears some expectant parents encounter while endlessly doomscrolling Facebook or Twitter. Speaking for myself, despite the struggles, the fears, and the sadness that sometimes comes with having children, it’s been worth it. The joys ultimately outweigh all of that, but I understand the terror too. Becoming a parent is no easy choice, nor should it be. But as I look back, I can say that I’m glad we made the choice we did.
I wonder if Frank and Lenore can say the same thing.
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